The Rufford Rose

by Margaret Lambert

  ‘Let her go, Will. What harm has she done to you? Let her go.’

  ‘Never,’ he replied. ‘She’s mine now.’ He stroked her breast with the hand holding her to him. ‘Lovely soft flesh. I’ll have such sport with her,’ and he held her tighter his eyes gleaming with lust. ‘She will be married to a lord, not a woodcarver. I will take her to my manor and she will be my wife and you will have to let her go because if you don’t I’ll kill you.’

  ‘That is all in your head, Will,’ cried Cuthbert. ‘Abel told you. You have no manor, no estate, no wealth. You have no rich family, no inheritance.’

  ‘That’s a lie,’ Will shouted back, and turned sharply as Alfric suddenly ran towards him and tried to grab the hand holding the weapon. Will lashed out and cut deeply into Alfric’s arm. As Alfric recoiled, Will plunged the chisel into his side, pulled it out and stabbed again. Alfric collapsed to the ground. Cuthbert went to his aid and Will sneered,

  ‘I told you I’d kill. Now do you believe me?’

  ‘Let Jennet go,’ pleaded Cuthbert.

  ‘Never.’

  He turned, grabbed Jennet by the arm and ran off into the wood, dragging her after him.

  Cuthbert knelt by Alfric, trying to staunch the blood which was pouring from the wounds.

  ‘Go after her,’ gasped Alfric, ‘or you’ll lose her. I’ll be all right. The others will find me. Go and rescue Jennet. Go on, go.’

  Cuthbert was torn but if he didn’t follow now he wouldn’t know where to look. With a last despairing look at his friend he got to his feet and tore after Will. He could hear Jennet’s cries ahead and followed them. Thomas came running from the side.

  ‘What’s happening? Have you found her?’

  ‘Will’s got her. He’s stabbed Alfric, back there, by the shore. Help him. I mustn’t lose Jennet,’ and he raced away.

  Thomas was joined by Ben and Abel.

  ‘Ben, with me, Alfric’s hurt. Abel follow Cuthbert and get any of the others to join you. That way.’ He pointed towards the Hall then turned and ran to the shore with Ben.

  Cuthbert tore along the path, leaping over tree roots and dodging overhanging branches. He was joined by several men from the building site and they raced after the fugitive who seemed to know every twist and turn of the path and was slowly gaining on them, despite being hampered by Jennet. Cuthbert’s lungs were bursting, his heart pounding in his chest. ‘I’m coming, I’m coming my darling,’ he said over and over in his head. ‘God keep her safe. Don’t let him harm her.’ As they burst out of the trees onto the track that led past the Hall they lost them for a moment then someone spotted them by the Great Hall.

  ‘There they are. Quick.’

  Will had reached the main door of the Great Hall, flung himself at it and it burst open, it had been left unlocked. He went in, throwing Jennet to the floor whilst he closed the door and dragged a table across it. They wouldn’t get him that easily. He looked around. It was the first time he had been inside since the day he had walked away from it. Abel and his men had finished it, even built a great monstrosity of a screen. He looked around. Where could he hide? In the west wing? The east wing? Then he saw the scaffolding still standing at the far end, waiting to be removed and a plan began to form in his mind. He dragged Jennet over to it.

  ‘Get up there,’ he said, pointing.

  ‘I can’t,’ she cried.

  ‘I said get up there’, and he threw her against the structure. She began to climb, hampered by her skirts but pulling herself up higher and higher. Will turned to the discarded net still lying in a tangled heap on the floor where it had fallen from the top when they had kicked it out of the way. He untied one of the ropes which they had used to haul the Tudor rose boss to the top, loosely coiled it and slung it around his shoulders then began to climb after Jennet.

  Outside the men were pushing on the door but it would only open a few inches.

  ‘He’s pushed something against it,’ cried Cuthbert, despairingly.

  Abel turned to the gathered men.

  ‘Some of you try to get in through the other doors in the wings. Smash the lock if you have to. You two, fetch a ladder and put it up to a window so we can see what’s happening inside. If you find a way in be careful, he’s got a weapon and he’s shown he will use it.’ The men scattered but Cuthbert pushed the door open as far as it would go and tried to reach the table inside.

  ‘If I could push it over we may be able to get this wide enough to get in,’ he said, heaving his shoulder against it. A gap appeared that was big enough to get an arm through and he pushed against the table edge. Abel leaned over and worked his arm through and together they heaved on the table, trying to tip it away from the door. Jehan and Jacob appeared with a ladder and set it up against one of the high windows. Jehan climbed swiftly and peered through the glass. The view was distorted by the glass but he could see movement near the scaffolding tower.

  ‘He’s making her climb the scaffolding!’ he cried in alarm.

  ‘Why would he do that?’ asked Jacob.

  ‘I don’t know but I don’t like it.’

  ‘Keep watching,’ said Abel from below.

  One of the men ran from the woodshed carrying a long piece of wood.

  ‘Try this. See if it will go through the gap so we can push the table away from the door.’

  They guided the pole into the gap then threw their weight behind it. Slowly they felt the table move and the gap in the door widened until it was possible to squeeze through and into the Hall.

  The sight that met them was terrifying. Will and Jennet were at the top of the tower. Jennet was on her knees, clinging to one of the supports. Will was tying the rope round another. He saw them come in and stopped what he was doing.

  ‘Glad you could join me,’ he said, a note of triumph in his voice. ‘You can watch your bride-to-be submit to me and then she will die. You will watch her humiliation and her death and you won’t be able to stop it because if you try to stop me I will throw her over the rail.’

  ‘Will!’ shouted Ezekial. ‘Don’t do this. Don’t hurt my daughter. Give yourself up before anyone gets hurt.’

  ‘She is the only one who will get hurt. I am going to walk out of here a free man.’

  ‘He’s gone completely mad,’ muttered Jehan. ‘He thinks he’s untouchable.’

  ‘He’s certainly mad enough to do what he says,’ agreed Abel.

  ‘Look what he’s doing with the rope,’ cried Jacob. ‘He’s making a noose. He’s going to hang her!’

  ‘We’ve got to stop him,’ Cuthbert shouted desperately. Abel looked beyond the tower as Alfred, Harry and Japheth entered silently through one of the doors from the West wing. ‘Keep Will’s attention towards us,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Will, what will you gain from hurting Jennet?’ asked Cuthbert.

  ‘I will have taken her from you, master carver. That will give me the greatest satisfaction. I want her for my wife and I will take her.’

  Abel moved behind the group, out of Will’s sight and gestured to the three men by the west wing. They nodded and silently moved towards him until they were directly under the tower where Will could not see them. As carefully as possible, Alfred began to climb the structure on the inside, trying to make neither noise nor movement that would alert Will to their presence. Cuthbert kept talking to Will, whilst trying to reassure Jennet with glances in her direction.

  ‘You will never walk away from here,’ said Cuthbert. ‘There are too many of us. You will hang for what you are doing. If you really love Jennet, as you say you do, you won’t harm her.’

  ‘Who said anything about love? Nobody ever loved me. I don’t know what love is nor do I care.’ He looked down at Jennet, cringing on her knees. He stretched out a hand and caressed her hair but she shrank away from him. ‘I know what lust is though and I have lusted after her since the day I saw her but she was always with those darned sisters of hers.’ He looked down at Cuthbert. ‘You have been a pest, keeping me away
from her but now I have her I intend to show her what a real man can do.’ He smiled lasciviously at her then turned suddenly away as, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a hand appear on the edge of the platform and a head came into view.

  Alfred had reached the top without being seen or heard but he ducked down as Will lurched towards him, the chisel in his hand. He peered over the side to see where Alfred had gone and saw the other two below. With a shout of rage he leaned over the opposite side to see whether there were any more, tripped on the coiled rope and clutched at the rail to stop himself from falling, the chisel dropping from his hand and spinning down to land in the discarded net below. Alfred quickly climbed onto the platform and reached for Will who turned and swung his fist at him. Alfred ducked and grabbed at Will’s legs. They struggled, the platform shaking with their bodies thrashing back and forth. Somehow Will got to his feet but he had no weapon and no room to fight properly. He lunged at his attacker again but tripped on the rope and fell against the top rail which split apart and he fell, turning over as he dropped to land heavily on his back on the pile of netting on the floor.

  For a split-second nobody moved then Abel, Jehan and Jacob rushed to Will’s side intent on preventing him getting up and escaping, but they stopped and looked in horror. Will was moving feebly, his legs kicking, his body jerking. A trickle of blood appeared on his lips, became a gush and his eyes looked wildly at them for a moment, then clouded over and his head rolled to one side. Abel bent and held a hand to his mouth, feeling for a breath.

  ‘He’s dead,’ he said, disbelievingly. ‘But …’

  ‘Turn him over,’ said Jehan, and the three of them heaved him onto his side. Buried to the handle in his back was the chisel he had used as a weapon. It had landed handle first in the mesh of the net, sticking straight up, ready to receive the man who had used it so wickedly, and administer rough justice.

  ‘He got what he deserved,’ observed Jehan, ‘and saves a trial though I would have liked to see him hang.’

  A noise from the top of the scaffold brought all their heads up. Jennet was sobbing in Alfred’s arms. Immediately Cuthbert climbed up to her and gathered her into his arms and onto his heart, holding her as though he would never let her go.

  ‘I’ve got you, my darling, I’ve got you. I’ll never let you go. You’re safe now, you’re safe.’ He rocked her as she wept, holding her tenderly until the first wave of tears eased. ‘Help me get her down,’ he said to Alfred, and together they lowered her to the waiting arms below. Her father held her close until Cuthbert was able to take her again, lift her into his arms and carry her away from the blood stained scene and back to her home where her mother and sisters were waiting anxiously. Only when she was settled and calm did he leave her to go and find out how Alfric was.

  As he approached the forge he saw a group of the workmen standing in a huddle, talking quietly and a feeling of dread came over him.’

  ‘What is it? What has happened? Is Alfric badly hurt?’

  Thomas came towards him.

  ‘He’s dead. The bastard killed him,’ he ground out between clenched teeth. ‘There was nothing we could do. He bled to death where he fell. Liliath came but it was too late. He’s dead, Alfric, one of the best of men, killed by a madman.’

  ‘He’s dead too and I’m not sorry but Alfric? No, not Alfric!’ Cuthbert turned away, overcome by sorrow. ‘He was one of the best and a good friend. If it hadn’t been for him I would be dead. He tried to stop Will taking Jennet and he has paid for that with his life. Oh, Alfric, what have I done to you?’ He fought to stop the tears but they flowed readily and he covered his face with his hands.’

  ‘You’re not to think like that,’ said Thomas, sharply. ‘Will was deranged, mad, out of control. He would have killed anyone who got in the way of his wild dreams. Alfric was just unlucky to be the one in his way at the wrong time.’ He touched Cuthbert’s shoulder and turned him to face him. ‘You must never blame yourself. Nobody here does and Alfric certainly wouldn’t. We will grieve for him but we will lay him to rest and remember his sacrifice as well as his love of life and of his work, the fun he brought to it with his funny sayings and laughter. He may have lost his life but he saved yours.’ He squeezed Cuthbert’s arm. ‘Come, you have somebody who needs you now. Go to her.’

  Cuthbert rubbed his face with his sleeve, nodded and turned back to go to Ezekial’s house.

  ‘He’s taking it hard,’ said Ben. ‘He was there when Alfric was stabbed, he saw what happened and could do nothing to prevent it. It will torture him for a long while, no matter what we say to him. Will is the one to blame and no one else, but he has escaped his punishment. If he hadn’t died by his own weapon he would have been hanged for murder.’

  ‘Yes, we know and good riddance to him. Nobody will mourn him. If he hadn’t killed himself I’d have done for Will with my bare hands.’

  ‘So would any of us,’ Ben said.

  ‘Alfric will be laid to rest here, where he did some of his greatest work and he won’t be forgotten,’ said Abel, calmly. ‘But now, let us go to the church and pray for his soul.’

  With nods of agreement a small procession gathered and made their silent way to the village church where Alfric’s body had already been laid before the altar, surrounded by his friends in peace and sorrow. On the morrow he would be washed and made ready for his burial but for tonight he was safe in the church surrounded by his friends.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The night was long. Few slept but they did gather in groups in their lodgings and homes as they talked about the events of the last few hours. How could everything have changed in such a short time? Instead of celebrating a marriage they would be mourning one of their own. How could the wedding go ahead in the light of this? Will’s death was a relief but Alfric was mourned by all who had known him. Several had gathered at Ezekial’s cottage, talking and remembering far into the night. Cuthbert sat beside Jennet as she slept, unable to let her out of his sight. Liliath had given her a sleeping draught as the girl was terrified of closing her eyes. Liliath and Hester had questioned her as much as they dared and had been able to assure themselves that Will had not harmed her beyond clumsily caressing and kissing her though what he would have done to her had her rescuers not managed to break into the Hall was unbearable to think about.

  Abel blamed himself for all that had happened.

  ‘How can you possibly be to blame?’ asked Ezekial, as they sat in his cottage, huddled together in their grief. ‘It’s not your fault he was mad.’

  ‘I should have told him years ago, when he started asking where he came from. I should have made it plain then but I thought he would grow out of it. I never dreamt he would really believe his stories.’

  ‘I doubt anything would have stopped his wild ideas,’ said Hester, handing Abel a refilled mug of ale. ‘Once he got the idea in his head there was no way he would stop. It was what he wanted.’

  ‘I could have done something.’ He peered into the depths of his mug and suddenly jerked upright. ‘My God! I left the Great Hall door open too. This afternoon, I locked up after you all left but I never locked that door. I wondered how he managed to get in. It’s my fault.’

  ‘That could be a blessing. At least we knew where he was. If he’d run off anywhere we may never have found them and God knows what he would have done to Jennet.’ Jehan rubbed his eyes with his hands.

  ‘Now stop that!’ cried Hester. ‘We must all stop these wild imaginings. The important thing is that she is safe and her tormentor is dead. She knows she is safe and has a man who will defend her with his life.’

  ‘What about their wedding? It’s set for a few hours’ time.’ They all looked at Ezekial, the wedding having been forgotten for the moment by every one of them.

  ‘We can’t have it tomorrow,’ said Ezekial. ‘What about Alfric? He is lying in the church as we speak. What about him?’

  ‘I don’t think Jennet would want it until he has been decently burie
d. We must speak to the priest first thing in the morning, see what he suggests.’ Hester got to her feet and went to see if Jennet needed anything. Cuthbert was seated on a low stool by her bed, holding her hand, his head on his arm. He stirred when Hester entered but did not get up.

  ‘She woke a while ago but when she saw me she went back to sleep,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll stay until morning.’

  Hester nodded but asked quietly,

  ‘What about the wedding? We don’t think it can go ahead as planned. Alfric must be buried first. Perhaps in a week or so you may feel ready.’

  ‘Yes, I agree but I will talk to Jennet when she wakes.’

  Hester crept quietly from the room. Cuthbert laid his head back down on the bed and silent tears leaked from his closed lids. How could one man cause such grief and unhappiness, he wondered. A cancelled wedding to be replaced by a funeral. A wonderful girl terrified. A good friend killed cruelly and so unnecessarily. A glorious spring day transformed into the darkest of nights. How would they ever come back from this? As the night passed he wept silently for all that was gone.

  Dawn light was creeping over the window sill when Jennet woke and looked about her. As she moved she felt her hand held in a warm clasp and saw Cuthbert’s head on the bedside beside her, fast asleep. Briefly she wondered why, then it all came back to her and a cold shiver ran through her. Gently she tried to release her hand but the movement woke Cuthbert and he sat up.

  ‘My dear one,’ he whispered, and enfolded her in his arms, holding her tightly to him. ‘You’re safe now. I will never allow such harm to come to you again.’

  ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘All the time Will was holding me captive I knew you would find me and come to rescue me, I never doubted it, but how did you find us in the woods?’